Angel without Wings
by SpaceRoses
Summary: Sometimes the smallest acts we preform, in kindness, are what can make all the difference in another person's live.


**Disclaimer: **I own nothing….it all belongs to the people at Marvel and the people at 20th Century Fox.

**Author's Note:** Okay….my famed procrastination skills have kicked in again and I give you my incredibly belated Christmas story. It's inspired by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra Christmas album "Christmas Eve and Other Stories". It's an incredible album by the way. Read and Review if you want….really, who wants to Flame a Christmas story? Thanks!

**Angel without Wings**

There was no sign in the run down old bar that it was Christmas Eve expect for the fact that the cages were closed. Any other night of the year the cage was open and the fights would last until late into the night but not on this night. Even up in Northern Alberta they still honored this night as a Holy Night when they should try to strain for that fabled peace and goodwill to their fellow men.

The bar was still open although few people where in it, only men with no families to share this holiday with or homes to go back too would be populating a bar on this night.

In a corner, away from the other few men in the room Logan sat, staring at the beer bottle he had placed in front of him. He had been in this nameless town for the fights and he'd done pretty well but he knew that he couldn't hang around for long before someone found out that he was a mutant.

Over his fifteen years of wandering he had leaned that it was better to leave town before anyone found out rather then get thrown out of town.

Mentally he reviewed his earnings for the past week; he had won enough to re-outfit himself with supplies and food, along with making a little extra. He could probably afford to drive around for a bit, put some distance between himself and this town before he settled in again at another bar.

Standing up he made his way out of the silent room, leaving some money on the counter to pay for his beer. No one bothered to glance up as he left, their only responses being slight glares when he opened the door to go outside, letting in the icy northern wind.

The cold didn't bother Logan as he made his way through the thick darkness to where he had left his truck. The air smelled of snow and he figured that there'd be another foot or so on the ground come the next morning.

His fingers were reaching for the keys to his truck when a sound caught his attention and he spun around, looking for the so far unseen enemy. His sharp eyes caught the movement just outside of the one working street light in the whole town and he relaxed. It was just some woman and her kid.

He was about to turn away again when the woman spoke to him, raising her voice to be heard over the wind, "Mister!"

Logan turned around; "Yeah?" he called back, seeing no reason to ignore her.

The woman came closer, holding the hand of her son, "Do…do you know of any place where my son and I could spend the night? We came into town this morning for some supplies and our truck broke down." She explained.

Logan paused, his mind looking for an answer to her question and coming up blank. Finally he came up with something, "There's an old widow up there a ways," he pointed in the direction, "Sometimes she takes in borders I've heard."

The woman smiled bitterly, "I've already been up there and it's full. No room at the inn you could say."

Logan frowned, the phrase being familiar to him but he couldn't remember where he had heard it. Finally he just grunted, "Sorry can't help ya. The bartender in there might let you stay." He gestured towards the bar he had just left.

The woman's face fell slightly but she nodded, "Thanks."

Logan didn't respond but his hand didn't move any closer to the keys. The expression on the woman's face had triggered something inside of him and he couldn't just blink and forget it.

Finally, after fighting between his usual desire for solitude and his own conscience, he turned around again to face the woman. She was still standing there, this time staring at the bar, as if she was deciding if she wanted to go inside or not.

"How far out of town do you live?" Logan asked and she turned her head to look at him, a slightly confused expression on her face, "About 35 miles…why?"

Logan opened the door to his car, "I'll give you a lift. Get in."

The woman looked untrusting for a moment before her desire to go home outweighed her fear and picking up her son she climbed into the truck, closing the door behind her and busying herself with making sure that her son was buckled in.

Logan got behind the wheel and started the truck, not bothering to glance at his two passengers. It was only after they were out of town that the woman spoke again, "Thank you Mister, for helping Cain and I get home."

Logan nodded slightly, his eyes on the road ahead of him. The woman fell silent again, staring out at the dark road, her arm wrapping protectively around her son who had fallen asleep.

There was no more conversation until, at the woman's direction; Logan pulled his truck onto a beat up, rutted dirt road that wound a ways into the dense forests that surrounded the highway.

After several minutes of silent bouncing he spotted a house like structure through the trees. He couldn't call it a house; it wasn't in good enough shape to earn that distinction. He could see more of it as he got closer and silently he wondered how a woman could try to raise a kid in a place like this.

The house looked like it was falling apart, one side of it leaned as if it had been built on lower ground then the other side, the few windows were small and ice covered and the yard was a mess of half standing tree stumps sticking up through the snow.

However, when he got even closer he could see other details of the house. Warm yellow light spilled from the windows into the frozen yard, a small green wreath held on bravely to the front door and what looked like a tree could be seen in one of the windows. Despite its appearance, Logan realized, it was a home for these people.

Pulling the truck to a stop in front of the house he turned off the engine. Silence fell as the woman woke up her son and gathered him up in her arms. Logan turned as the door to the house opened and an old man came out, glaring at the car and Logan could see the shotgun that the man was holding, ready to train it on the car's occupants in a moment's notice.

Logan glared at the man, unsure if this was a friend or a foe. The woman however knew the man. Opening up the door she stepped out, holding Cain, "Dad, it's me! We made it back!"

The old man lowered the gun, "Amy? You were gone so long I thought you got stuck." He replied, still eyeing the truck.

Amy smiled but before she closed the door she turned back to Logan, "Thank you again Mister. You must be an angel to have shown up when you did."

Logan raised an eyebrow and started to shake his head but Amy didn't notice, having shut the door. Logan watched as she ran across the yard and up to her father. It wasn't until after the family had disappeared inside the house that Logan finally turned the engine back on and prepared to pull out of the yard.

Still, for one moment he hesitated and glanced at the now silent house from over his shoulder. For a moment his lips twitched into a smile and he looked back out of the window at the stars that were out.

Maybe one of these years he'd spend a Christmas in a home with a family of his own, instead of on the road or sitting in the back corner of some bar in the middle of nowhere.

Shaking his head he pulled back onto the driveway and towards the highway.

8888

Cain opened one eye sleepily as Amy tucked him into bed, "Mama?"

Amy tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Yes Cain?" she whispered.

"Do you believe in angels?" Cain asked his eye already slipping back closed. Amy smiled, "Of course honey."

Cain's mouth formed a sleepily smile, "Then that man we met must've been one…he just left his wings at home."

_Fin. _


End file.
